I’m feeling better, by the way. Do you know how I know? The zip on the coin part of my purse broke and my coins all fell out, and I just said Shit. I didn’t burst into tears. And I didn’t start constructing some woe-filled sentence about the symbolism I might attach to the passing of my purse. So there you go. You can ask me out for coffee again now, and I might even say and so, how are you?
Yes. Well.
The thread of my Tibetan prayer beads broke and they scattered throughout my travel bag.
Talk about symbolism.
That was quick.
I kinda thought blogging *was* narcissism.